


The Quiet Things No One Ever Knows

by lazarus_girl



Category: Faking It (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarus_girl/pseuds/lazarus_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basking in the glow of a very different morning after, Amy wonders just how she got so lucky, what else the day can bring, and where she and Karma go from here.</p><p> <i>“She got the girl of her dreams. Literally.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quiet Things No One Ever Knows

**Author's Note:**

> Set post canon, where Karmy are a newly established couple. Featuring a sprinkling of my own headcanon throughout. Written for [major-cosmic-shift](http://major-cosmic-shift.tumblr.com) who wanted some post first time fluff. So, here it is! I hope you like it! Title from the Brand New song of the same name. Thank you, as ever, to the alpha of betas [itcameuponamidnightqueer](http://itcameuponamidnightqueer.tumblr.com), for her keen eyes and continuing to indulge me plaguing her with feels about these two adorable idiots.

_“Their banter was rich and comfortable,_  
_their teasing intimate and profound;_  
_their ‘I love you’ without use of those startling words.”_  
– Sarah Winman, _When God Was a Rabbit_.

***

The first thing Amy sees when she opens her eyes is the glow stars on her ceiling, only, they’re not glowing anymore, because it’s day – just. Sunlight seeps in through her curtains, casting the room in a faint orange hue. The second thing she sees is bedclothes, twisted up and the duvet half hanging over the bed, like always, because she’s a restless sleeper. Except, it’s not quite like always, because then she sees is her laptop on the floor, and clothes strewn all around her bed. She yawns, stretching a little, still too tired to be awake at this hour. And then, she remembers. She remembers everything all at once, and this _wave_ of happiness rushes her. Suddenly, her heart feels too big to live in her chest anymore.

Letting out a long, contented sigh she turns carefully onto her side. In front of her, sleeping soundly, right next to her in fact, as close as she can get without actually _being_ on top of her, is Karma, right where she knew Karma would be, lying on her stomach, face half obscured by a mass of tousled – sexily tousled, Karma would be impressed – hair, but it’s still kind of a surprise. The nicest surprise. Karma shifts in her sleep, making a little noise that kind of sounds like her name before draping an arm across Amy’s hip over the bedclothes. She looks down at it and smiles. It still doesn’t feel real.

***

Sharing a tub of cake frosting and watching _Mean Girls_ for the millionth time instead of the documentaries she has queued got Karma here. That’s not so unusual, given that Friday nights have been their movie night since middle school, and sleepovers were a thing way before that, but what’s not so usual? The fact that they’re both very much naked, and she’s ready to set down last night as the best night in her seventeen-and-a-half years of life.

If she still kept a diary, she’d devote at least twenty pages to saying ‘I love Karma Tanvi Ashcroft’ and then twenty more saying ‘Karma Tanvi Ashcroft is the most beautiful girl in the world.’ Whatever pages were left, she’d dedicate to writing down everything that happened between them in the last couple of hours; just so she could put it all somewhere and have solid proof that everything, including the fact that Karma is lying there next to her, isn’t all in her head. Last night, they slept together for the very first time. Ten little words. Ten huge words. One massive deal. It wasn’t like they planned at all, and they did plan before now. Karma is a girl who plans _everything_. She’s known every detail of what Karma wanted her first time to be like since they turned fourteen: candles, rose petals, and a special playlist (that wasn’t so special because she also knows every song on it). Whoever it was with, no matter where it took place, it’d be romantic and perfect and they’d say ‘I love you’ and mean it before falling asleep in each other’s arms. She never got that – Karma never got that either – and she was determined to give it to her one day, organising it with whatever boy Karma would end up dating when they made it to high school. She doesn’t really remember when that wonderful fictitious boy dreamed up between them disappeared completely and turned into herself.

(OK, maybe she does, but she doesn’t recall the actual day her brain consciously made the trade)

In her head, she’s had plans of her own for a long while now; embellishing what Karma talked about years ago lying on this bed flipping through magazines they were probably too young to be reading. First, they’d bite the bullet and tell the school they were the real deal this time. Second, they’d bite an even bigger one and tell her nana that they were girlfriends and not just friends who were girls. Third, they’d go on a date, a real date, to a fancy restaurant – she’d babysit the brats across the street for two months straight to pay for everything, just to see Karma’s face light up, because she could finally wear one of those crazy expensive, elegant dresses she’s always eyeing at the mall (even she’d wear a dress and the only place she does that is when her nana drags her to church). Fourth, she’d buy Karma flowers or candy, because red roses and Hershey’s kisses are the way to her heart. Fifth, while they were out, she’d rope in Shane, and maybe Lauren (girl knows her romance, after all) to set up the room just how Karma’s always imagined it. Sixth, they’d come back on Shane’s signal. She make Karma close her eyes, lead in her in and then reveal everything to her. Then, they’d stand right in the middle of that room, listening to the music, looking at each other in the candlelight, and they’d kiss, walking each other back to the bed and lie on those rose petals while they kissed some more. She’d tell Karma she was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen, that she was completely, hopelessly in love with her, and then it would happen. They’d make love. They wouldn’t bang, they wouldn’t _fuck_ , they’d make love.

***

All it took was one stray bit of pink frosting on the corner of her mouth and for Karma to lean over to kiss that very spot, laughing at her, and say three little words to derail that incredibly elaborate plan. No, it wasn’t “I love you,” but, “I’m ready now,” soft and sure instead. She didn’t need to ask what it meant. There were no rose petals, no candles, no playlist, no fancy restaurant, and no expensive dresses. Karma was in pyjama shorts and her favourite doughnut shirt (that she never gets to wear anymore because Karma keeps stealing the damn thing for herself), and she was in sweats and her mom’s old Clemson shirt, but none of that seemed to matter. Neither of them cared. All that did matter and all that was worth caring about was the fact that Karma wanted her, she wanted Karma and they both wanted to take their relationship to the next level. She said three words back, careful and cautious, “are you sure?”

Cliché, yes, but honest, and after all the faking and the lies and the bullshit, all they both want is honest.

For the first few minutes, when it became very clear to her Karma wanted to do more, up on her knees, fingers curling around the hem of Amy's Clemson shirt; mouth on hers, urgent and insistent in a way she’s never been before – when they were clumsy and awkward because of unsteady hands and trapped necklaces – there was just this … _explosion_ of feeling. Before she even realised what was really happening, they were half naked, Karma staring wide-eyed and curious, hands hovering at Amy’s sides, unsure of how or where she should touch. They both wanted each other and needed to touch and taste and whatever else without anything being in the way. But she also knew that they needed to slow down. Karma deserved so much more than rushing and fumbling, and she’d been fantasising about this for so long, she didn’t want it to be over in the blink of an eye either. So, she got her shit together for both their sakes, determined to make it special and pull out all the stops; kissing Karma more softly as she guided back her down to the mattress, cupping the back of her head to cushion a non-existent fall.

There are a lot of things she won’t forget about everything that follows, but specific things stick in her head; sharp, bright and beautiful. Things like the Karma’s shuddering breath when she whispered, “slow down, I’m not going anywhere,” in her ear; kisses drifting down Karma’s neck. Things like the feeling Karma’s skin, warm and smooth and perfect under her fingertips. Things like the mischievous – dare she say sexy? – little smile on Karma’s face when she got bold and flipped them over, kissing her deeply, with this agonising slowness that made her let out a loud, throaty moan that she’s _never_ heard in her life before, because Karma does things to her that no one else can.

Things like Karma’s lingering kisses, tracing out paths on her skin, eager and curious, as she got more confident. Things like the quiet, content little sounds Karma would make every time their bodies touched. Things like Karma’s nails biting into her shoulders in just the right way as she clung on to her for dear life. Things like the pure, unadulterated look of love she saw when she held Karma’s gaze, hand resting on her thigh, gently repeating “are you sure?” and “we can stop if you want to?” before Karma’s hands flew up to frame her face, kissing her pointed and deliberate in reply.

Things like the solid fuzz satellite delay her brain went into the second she realised her fingers were actually inside Karma – slick and warm and soft (it was so easy, she was so ready, so wanting). Things like Karma’s head tilted back, mouth open in a perfect silent ‘O,’ gasping as those fingers dared to inch a little deeper. Things like Karma’s legs wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. Things like her own name, falling from Karma’s lips again and again between uneven breaths and a surprising round of curse words. Things like the exact second Karma tipped over the edge and said her name the loudest of all, hips rising to meet her. Things like the moments after, easing Karma down with slowing movements in and out in a less steady rhythm. Things like the minutes later, pressed as close as she could get to Karma, holding her tight and reminding her to breathe again. Things like their laughter between shaky kisses. Things like Karma kissing away her brief tears because in the end, she found herself so completely _fucking_ overwhelmed by every second of it that she couldn’t find words explain it and there was no other way for it to escape but cry.

Her tears didn’t last long, not with Karma holding her close and shushing her gently. Then, something else happened. Something she never even _dreamt_ of. Karma pulled back, looking at her before long time before asking in the shyest voice she’s ever heard, “I want to make you feel like I do right now,” and then, bolder, braver with that same devilish smile on her face as she flipped them both over murmuring, “I want to know what you taste like,” right in her ear.

Everything after that is this delicious _haze_ of watching Karma descend down her body, retracing everywhere she kissed before, hands sliding teasingly over her skin, teeth nipping here and there; tongue soothing over the same spots. This time, there was no stopping, and only the barest hint of nervousness. Clearly Karma had been making plans too. Right before she closed her eyes, stopped thinking completely, and her world was reduced to nothing but the feeling of Karma’s mouth and Karma’s tongue – that _fucking_ tongue – lapping and teasing, humming appreciatively against her every time she would moan much, _much_ too loudly – she thanked God, Jesus, Buddha and Vishnu for Karma’s liberal parents, and that _ridiculous_ dossier for everything she’s been taught.

All she had to give was a few words of encouragement, “just like that,” and “slower babe, please,” because it was all going far too fast, embarrassingly fast, given how close she was already (watching Karma get off was an unexpected turn on). The hardest thing of all was resisting the urge to grab the back of Karma’s head or thrust her hips upwards right into Karma’s face, craving more. Instead, she just held her hands there, guiding her a little, tangling her fingers through Karma’s hair. In the end, as she got closer and closer to the edge, moaning louder and louder – saying Karma’s name so much it didn’t sound real – growing light-headed because she was desperate for every ounce of what she was feeling to last, it felt like Karma was the only thing anchoring her to the real world. And _oh_ , did she see stars; bursting brilliantly behind her eyelids, and they were nothing like the ones on her ceiling.

When she finally opened her eyes, giddy, breathless, and so _incredibly_ satisfied, she was met with Karma – prettily flushed and smiling the smuggest smile she’d ever seen – carefully brushing back the hair that had stuck to Amy's head. She didn’t know what to say, except that she’d never loved anyone more than in that moment. She didn’t know what to do, except she’d never wanted to kiss anyone more than she wanted to kiss Karma in that moment. So she did, soft little pecks, building and building, drawn to the taste of herself on Karma’s tongue. They stayed like that; wrapped in each other kissing until they fell asleep. That part of the plan came off at least.

Even so, it was amazing, it was perfect. It was perfect because it just happened, naturally. It was perfect because it was just so _them_.

***

Nothing’s ever happened how she expected it to. She knew that Karma was special, that they’d be friends forever, but falling in love with her wasn’t something she ever considered. She’d never considered it because it’s always been there. She’s always loved Karma. It’s a certainty, like the fact day follows night; that what goes up must come down – as automatic as breathing. It’s the whole being _in_ love with Karma thing that came as a surprise, and took lot longer to get her head around.

(and Karma took longer still)

After Liam and Reagan, they wanted to take it slow and not rush into anything. It’s still new and more than a little terrifying. All they’ve done in the few weeks since Karma’s teary confession that she was confused and might have feelings for her is hold hands and kiss. A lot. She was fine with that, because Karma is really _fucking_ good at kissing, but each time they’d be in this very room, on the pretext of homework and Karma would end up in her lap kissing her for all she was worth, and they were practically dry humping each other, it would get harder and harder to stop. She’d never, _ever_ push Karma into anything she didn’t want to do, and sometimes the wait drove her crazy – to the point that _every single thing_ Karma did became sexy, even chewing on her damn pen – but she knew it would all be worth it in the end.

She was right.

Before they became a real couple, but long after they stopped faking it, she used to imagine mornings like this: blissful, calm, quiet, and hopeful, but she could never quite get it right. The details weren’t there; it was just drawn from snatches of prose from well-read novels and dialogue from movies repeatedly watched. Her imagination wasn’t _quite_ vivid enough. It was never real. It was never concrete. Until now.

It’s impossible to be this happy. There has to be some law against it. She won’t be able to function. If it wasn’t some stupid hour, she’d probably run around the house celebrating in the loudest manner possible (dancing around in her underwear singing Taylor Swift at the top of her lungs) or phone Shane just to scream down the phone at him that she and Karma had sex. She and Karma had mind-blowingly good sex. _Twice_ (the sleepy sort of grinding that happened because they couldn’t stop kissing and touching each other could be deemed a third). And watching Karma come – no, hearing her come – is the hottest thing ever (OK, maybe not that part, because he has a limit, but everything else is up for discussion). It’d be worth the earache that comes with his high-pitched squealing, and OMFG-ing because he’s the only other person aside from Karma who knows how much this all means, how much and how long she’s wanted it for.

She wants to wake Karma up now. No, she wants to kiss her awake and pull her into her arms, because holding Karma is her favourite thing (well, _one_ of them), and tell her how beautiful she is – again, because she totally said that when they were finally naked and Karma’s blush was, adorably, as red as her hair – and keep kissing her because they’re still very much making up for lost time. Except, it _is_ some stupid hour, so she can’t do any of that because she’ll wake everyone up. Shane is even less of a morning person than her, Karma looks so relaxed and peaceful it’d be selfish to wake her, and Lauren will be plotting revenge all week if she doesn’t get her requirement of beauty sleep. Even if that waking involved kisses, which Karma could totally turn into an Olympic sport and come out with the gold medal. So, all she can do is watch Karma sleep. She’s pretty certain she could watch Karma like this forever and not get bored. Hungry maybe, but never bored.

She wishes she could take a picture of her like this, but her memory will have to do. Faults and all.

Karma’s _always_ been pretty, even when she didn’t think she was – middle school was an awkward period for them both – but today, right now, Karma’s so much more than pretty. She’s never seen her look more beautiful. The light of the room makes her hair look more copper than auburn, like it’s on fire somehow, and her skin glow in a way that makes Amy’s chest ache. She just watches for a long time, trying not to blink because that will some how disturb things. Things like the elegant line of Karma’s back; her shoulders and the way her hair freed from its ponytail hangs in loose curls between them. Things like her long lashes, fluttering against her cheeks; her soft, steady breathing, and the way her mouth is curved into a slight smile.

She wonders what Karma could be dreaming of and what it might mean. She doesn’t need dreams anymore, not the kind that colour your sleep anyway. Everything she’s ever dreamt of with any kind of regularity is inches from her. Karma. Such a small, simple name for such an extraordinary person. She doesn’t do sappy and romantic. If anyone else were saying this, she’d be making gagging noises and thinking that they’re the most pathetic person on the planet, but maybe that’s because she never thought she could ever feel like everyone else told her love was meant to make her feel. She’s never felt like this about anyone but Karma really, so she doesn’t have any rules to go by. Rules went out the window the second she decided to save Karma from social suicide at the homecoming rally by kissing her. A lot’s happened since then, some of which she’d change, some of which she wouldn’t, but it’s all in the process.

That process means she’s here now. She got the girl of her dreams. Literally.

***

It’s been too long since she woke up now, and she’s starting to get a little lonely. She needs some of that boundless Karma Ashcroft energy as usual, but more than anything, she needs to be kissing her and talking to her and deciding how they’re going to spend the day together. They do that now, see, plan things to do instead of just hanging out in her room in their pyjamas watching Netflix and eating junk food while Karma plays hairdresser and puts Amy’s hair into braids only to unwind them and start all over again. It’s nice. She likes it. She loves it even, but now it feels like they’re officially official, so now she wants to actually _take_ Karma places as her girlfriend and show her off.

“Karm,” she whispers, pushing the hair back off Karma’s face gently. “Karm, wake up.” Karma makes some sort of _noise_ in response, frowning adorably. Amy laughs softly, pressing a barely there kiss to Karma’s cheek.

“I don’t want to open my eyes in case you’re not there,” Karma murmurs, half into the pillow. “I don’t want last night to be a dream.”

Amy closes what little distance there is between them and kisses Karma’s cheek again. “Trust me,” she begins, “it wasn’t a dream.” Feeling brave, she dots quick kisses along Karma’s jaw, punctuating her words. “It was very real. I promise.” A longer kiss then, pressed to the corner of Karma’s mouth. “Come on Sleeping Beauty, wake up.”

Karma’s face blooms into a bright smile, rubbing at her face, still sleepy, “OK Princess Sarcasm, you win.”

Her heart flutters a little at the nickname and she’s sure that she’s blushing some silly shade of red at that, and the fact Karma is currently managing to look insanely cute and ridiculously sexy at the same time. Work that out _Cosmo_.

“Hi,” Karma says in this soft little voice, looking suddenly shy, pulling up the bedclothes as if she’s only just remembered they’re both naked.

“Hi,” Amy echoes, needlessly, unsure what to do next.

When she reaches out a hand, cupping Karma’s face to kiss her, but Karma pulls back.

“I didn’t brush my teeth yet.”

She can’t help it, but she laughs. Of all the things Karma could say, she comes out with that _that_. How does she not know how beautiful she is? How is she still so insecure?

“What?” Karma asks, concern flashing over her.

“Karm,” she moves closer again, just stopping short of Karma’s mouth. “I don’t care.”

“You – you don’t?” Karma squeaks out, thrown when Amy kisses her neck instead. “I’m all sweaty and gross, I probably have morning breath and my hair is a mess!”

“I don’t care,” Amy repeats, hoping to reassure her, making sure Karma is looking right at her when she adds, “because all I want is you. Because you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world whether you’ve brushed your teeth or not, OK?” Now it’s Karma’s turn to blush. “And I love you, and I loved last night,” she continues, tracing the shape of Karma’s lips before kissing her briefly. “And if you’re freaked out right now, or overwhelmed or whatever, I get it.”

“I’m … I don’t know,” Karma admits, looking nervous.

Amy tries to ignore the fleeting wave of dread that flashes over her, mood plummeting. She has try and be calm. This is a really big deal for them both, but especially for Karma. Being the first is never easy.

“OK,” she nods, trying not to meet Karma’s eyes, distracting herself with the pattern in the duvet. “But please don’t say you regret it because I don’t think I could deal with that right now.”

It’s the truth. They’re still learning to trust each other again in so many ways and they almost ruined everything between them by holding back. Now is not the time for holding back. They passed the point of no return hours ago. She doesn’t know if she can survive Karma rejecting her a second time, nevermind the heartbreak that will follow it.

“Aims,” there’s that soft little voice again, “Aims, look at me babe.”

It’s the ‘babe’ that makes her head jerk up. Karma’s never called her that before.

“I don’t know,” Karma begins, sitting up, pulling up the covers and hugging her knees. “because no one’s _ever_ made me feel like you did last night,” Karma’s smiling again, shaking her head in disbelief.

Now Amy just feels stupid. Massively stupid.

“No one?” she ventures, smiling herself.

“No one,” Karma repeats, firm. “You were just so kind, and patient …” she trails off, shrugging. “God,” she groans. “It felt so good. You’re so good. Like how? …. It was … I mean …” and then in one long breath, “Whoa.”

Amy’s grinning like an idiot, but she doesn’t care. She moves forward tilting her head up to meet Karma’s and kissing her for no real reason. “I do have an advantage, same equipment and all,” she’s going for nonchalant, but she sounds smug instead.

“The only thing I regret is that we didn’t do it sooner,” Karma laughs, sinking back down and pulling Amy closer.

“Me too,” she replies, quietly.

“Now I know what I’ve been missing,” Karma’s smiling, but there’s a sadness lingering underneath her words.

“But,” Amy begins, reaching and kissing the back of Karma’s hand, watching with fascination as she laces their fingers together, “you’re _so_ worth waiting for. I never thought we’d get here, Karm. I never let myself imagine it.”

At that, Karma’s eyes close and she steels herself, like she still thinks she’s dreaming too.

“I know,” Karma nods sadly. “I’m sorry I wasted so much time,” she squeezes Amy’s hand tighter, eyes just starting to brim with tears.

They’ve been through so much to get here, but they have to stop beating themselves up over it. People mess up and make mistakes all the time.

“Hey,” Amy says, reaching to brush Karma’s cheek with her free hand to comfort her. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here now.”

Karma lurches forward then, pressing a rough kiss to Amy’s lips. The forcefulness of it takes her by surprise, but then, she knows what it’s like to try and hold on to feelings you think you can’t contain. Sometimes they just rush to the surface and need means of escape.

“I love you,” Karma says breathlessly, when she pulls away. “So much. You make me so happy and I feel like you need to know that.”

“Karm.”

Now she’s embarrassed again; her heart beating crazy fast in her chest. She puffs out a breath, somehow managing to keep it together and not burst into complete blubbering mess, because she’s been waiting so long to hear Karma say stuff like this, and now it’s happening, she doesn’t know what to do with it. She’ll never know what to do with it.

“It’s true,” Karma reassures, doing the cute lip-biting thing that drives her totally nuts.

“So what now?” she asks, not sure where the rest of the day will go. No plans after all. “I’m starving.”

“What a surprise!” Karma laughs. “You’re always hungry. That never changes.”

“Hey!” Amy pouts, swatting at Karma playfully.

“What would you like?” Karma asks, smiling, playing with Amy’s necklace needlessly. “You deserve _way_ more than Pop Tarts this morning.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, unable to hide the smile that breaks out at Karma’s words. “I thought maybe we could go to The Twain and get breakfast or something. Then maybe the mall and look at ridiculously expensive shit we can’t buy. Go get pizza. Sneak into an afternoon classic movie and eat too much popcorn. Gatecrash your mom’s for dinner and unveil ourselves officially?”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, huh?” Karma’s beaming again. “Why is our entire day based around food?”

“Whatever! You were asleep for a long time!” Amy cries, mock offended. “Actually, it’s entirely based around _you_. Are you in? I mean, I know it’s the same shit we do every Saturday once Bruce drops my allowance check –”

Karma cuts off her rambling with another kiss. “I’d love to spend the day with you. It doesn't matter we'll do what we've done every other Saturday forever. It's different now,” she pauses, curling Amy’s hair around her ear before continuing, “We’re together. You’re my girlfriend.”

Well _that’s_ new. They haven’t officially said it out loud before.

“Say that again,” Amy blurts out, just to make sure she’s not going crazy.

“You’re my girlfriend,” Karma repeats, capturing Amy’s lips in a lingering kiss. “My adorable, beautiful, incredibly good in bed, girlfriend.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she jokes.

“Aims?”

“Hmm?” she tilts her head, looking at Karma adoringly, just because she can. This will never _ever_ get old.

“Before we do all that,” Karma pauses, gathering herself. “Can –” she stops short, barely able to look Amy in the eye.

“What? Spit it out,” she coaxes. “Whatever you want, we can do. Your wish is my command!”

She almost cringes at that. Being in love has seemingly turned her into the biggest cheeseball on the planet.

“Can we …?” Karma pauses. Again. “Your mom’s in Dallas, Bruce is at that golf thing and Lauren’s with Theo.”

“Anthony,” Amy corrects, unable to help herself.

“Anyway, whatever, the house is empty so…”

“So?” Amy pushes again, beginning to sense where this is going, but she just wants to hear Karma say it.

“Can we do it again?” as soon as her words are out, Karma lets out a huge breath of relief. “I mean, can we have sex again? Only if you want?!” she’s flustered, stumbling over almost every word and second-guessing herself.

Adorable as it is, she can’t take any more of it.

“Yes,” Amy replies quickly, kissing Karma and swallowing down her little surprised shriek when she flips them both over. “Yes,” she repeats, kissing Karma again, longer and deeper this time as she settles, straddling her waist, holding Karma’s hands in her own. “For the record, that’s totally something you’ll never have to worry about asking. _Ever_. There isn’t a universe where I wouldn’t want you.”

Karma grabs the back of her head, pulling her down for another kiss, so heavy and deep that it almost takes her breath.

“Show me,” Karma says when they reluctantly break for air. “Show me everything,” she repeats, in this husky tone Amy’s never heard before, but is pretty certain she wants to hear for the rest of her life.

Somehow, she thinks they won’t make it out of this bed today, much less to the mall or any of those other places they talked about, but, as she begins to move slowly down Karma’s body, pressing haphazard kisses here and there, listening. to Karma’s breath hitch every single time, she realises she doesn’t need any of that. Right now, in this bed, in this room with Karma, she’s got everything she’s ever wanted, and it’s more than she ever dared to hope for.


End file.
